


Doggy Style

by milkysterek



Series: Canon Style [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (God I love being able to use that tag), Camaro Sex, Canon Compliant, Car Sex, First Time, M/M, Season 6B, Stiles Has Nine Toes, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, s06e20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 14:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12509180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkysterek/pseuds/milkysterek
Summary: “I can’t believe I have nine toes.”“You’re ridiculous,” Derek sighs, “Get on your front instead. You can hang your foot over the side of the seat so it won’t bump anything.”





	Doggy Style

**Author's Note:**

> The aftermath of Bridal Style.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

Derek freezes and drops his eyes down to Stiles. They’re in the back of the Camaro, all bunched up an uncomfortable. Not to mention, they’re both still covered in blood from the firefight, despite the fact that they’ve been to the hospital and a diner since then. Stiles’ FBI vest is long gone, ditched somewhere back in the hospital's parking lot and against all odds in such a cramped space, Derek has managed to wrangle the guy’s pants off. It was not done without effort. 

“Am I hurting you?” He asks. Derek has Stiles on his back, doubled over with his knees pinned close to his head by the wolf’s arms. He loosens his hold and backs up in what little space they have. 

Stiles shakes his head and reaches up to stop Derek’s escape, “No, no, I’m good. My toe keeps hitting the roof. Well,” Stiles pauses, his expression grave, “What’s left of it, anyway.”

While Derek and Stiles may have survived the fight back at the warehouse, Stiles’ pinkie toe had not been so lucky. Its sacrifice will be remembered. Derek huffs and ducks his face down to hide his smile. He’s not sure why he’s so embarrassed to show that kind of thing, especially since his dick is very out right now. Smiling is a weird thing to be shy about. 

“I can’t believe I have nine toes.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Derek sighs, “Get on your front instead. You can hang your foot over the side of the seat so it won’t bump anything.”

Stiles does as he’s told without complaint, even if it is a little clumsily. He lies down on his stomach and tilts his head to the side, cheek pressing against the leather seat. 

“Doing this in the back of a car is way impractical. I don’t know why it gets romanticised so much.”

He’s right, Derek thinks as he leans over to the front seat. There’s a little packet of lube and the wolf snatches it up and quickly yet carefully tears it open. He’s been in the game long enough to know that you have to be delicate with these sort of things, else you end up with splattered lube in your hair and, while Derek did go through a phase of wearing way too much hair gel - a phase that Stiles is still in - that isn’t a look he hopes to repeat. 

“I could take you to a motel,” Derek offers. He’s slicking up his fingers right now and he really doesn’t want to put this on pause, but if Stiles is uncomfortable he’ll do it anyway. He wants this to be good for both of them. 

Stiles makes a noise of protest and lifts his hips up, presenting his ass for the omega. Suddenly it’s very hard to make sense of what Stiles is saying, “Hell no,” He grumbles, “This has been a fantasy of mine ever since I saw you pick Erica from the school in this stupid car. There’s no way I’m backing out now.”

The memory brings a smile to Derek’s lips and he lets a small, breathy laugh escape while he pushes a wet finger into Stiles’ tight heat. The pressure from inside Stiles is mindblowing, even with only Derek’s fingers. It doesn’t take him long to add a second and a third, willingly stuffing them in to the rhythm of Stiles’ eager and rocking hips. He’s so warm inside, so welcoming. It’s better than Derek had ever expected. 

“You ready?” He asks, pulling his fingers out and lining up his cock. The soft tip presses against Stiles’ open and inviting hole like a question and it takes everything in Derek not to inch forward just that little bit more to slip past the ring of muscle and into Stiles’ core. 

Stiles nods then groans out a, “Yes, Derek. So ready.”

 

They fuck hard and fast. Part of him had always expected his first time with Stiles to be like this. He imagined it would be fueled by rage, that Stiles would initiate it with taunting words and sharp, claw-like nails. Another part of him imagined it would be slow and careful with warm, wet kisses and whispered admission. This, what they’re doing now, it’s kind of both - and Derek really, really likes it. 

Salty skin expands across Derek’s tongue as he sucks at Stiles’ neck. He smells so good there, so strong and so  _ Stiles _ . It’s like a drug, hypnotic and all-consuming. Derek can’t get enough. He bites down, eliciting a sharp, pained moan from Stiles and fucks in deeper, revelling in the pretty gasps and high pitched wails. Stiles is perfect for this. 

The air in the Camaro is heavy with the scent of their sex and the slap of Derek’s balls against Stiles’ is loud and filthy in the small space. Derek’s close, he can feel it and any second now he’s going to reach his release. He’ll fill Stiles up, get him all sloppy and saturated with Derek’s scent. The wolf’s cum will be leaking out of his abused hole for hours. They should probably find a hotel, somewhere to rest, but the desire to drive straight to Beacon Hills and have all the wolves there know  _ exactly _ what Derek has done is a strong draw. Something primal and animalistic in Derek wants the pack back home to know that Derek has staked his claim. He knows it’s stupid, that that sort of craving is his wolf talking but he doesn’t care. There’s nothing in the world he wants more right now than for everyone to know that he and Stiles belong to each other. 

Stiles moans low and guttural and his hips start to shudder and shake. He’s close too, Derek can smell it. He reaches his hand around Stiles’ body and grabs his cock, pumping in time with his thrusts. The thick, salty stench of Stiles’ release is like nothing Derek has ever experienced before. He growls, collapses forward on his boy and hammers his hip harder than he ever has before. When he cums not long after, it’s to the sound of Stiles begging for it, begging to be filled. 

 

They decide against stopping at a hotel. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have one more fic after this in this canon 'verse ;)
> 
> [tumblr](http://milkysterek.tumblr.com/)


End file.
